Jesus, Are You There? Part 4
by KJesusRocks
Summary: Sorry this is very short, but I had to post it. I know how anxious some of u are for the next few chapters, so I had to post these two. Enjoy!


**Chapter 21**

**Home Alone **

Jonathan lay on the living room couch. He could sense that the house was empty, and that scared him. He would've called for help, for he felt very sick and was aching, but he couldn't get on his feet.

He lifted up his head long enough to see his legs were just filled with black and blue marks. His head flung back and he moaned. Slowly, he lifted his hands to his face to get a better look at them.

"Holy cow," he murmured, seeing two black and blue arms and hands. Nothing seemed to be left untouched. "Dear God!"

The phone rang, and Jonathan just let it ring. When the person left a message, he realized it was the school calling about Jonathan being absent from school.

He rolled his eyes. _Yeah, no duh I'm absent!_ he thought to himself. He was in no mood for anything right now.

Jonathan reached way over as far as he could to pick up the remote. He flipped to channel 350 - Nick. Right now, little kid shows were on, so Jonathan decided to take a nap. He could hardly stand Dora The Explorer.

Jonathan woke with a start when he heard someone knocking at the door. Who in the world could it be?

"Open up, we need to talk to you!" a police officer yelled.

Jonathan had no idea what to do. Nobody was home but him, and he couldn't let the cops see him in this shape! "Dear Lord, please make him go away," he prayed.

"Kimberly Peachy, you can't hide from us for forever!" they screamed, slamming hard on the door.

Jonathan's eyes widened. _Kimberly Peachy? What do they want with my mom? Has someone reported my abuse?_ Jonathan gulped. A sudden shutter of fear went down his spine. _I never thought about it before, but what would I do without her?_

"Kimberly, you have five seconds!"

"She's not here!" Jonathan called.

"Who are you?" they demanded.

"Her husband. I ain't feelin' my best, so can you maybe come back later?" Jonathan moaned for effect.

"Fine. We'll be back, Mr. Peachy."

_Yeah, I sure hope not. _Jonathan's stomach growled and he whimpered. Why hadn't someone left at least something for him to eat? Of yeah, he was being starved!

Jonathan's mind drifted to Norman. What was he doing right now? Probably enjoying a nice lunch by himself. Did Norman care that he was gone?

Jonathan suddenly got very angry. He wasn't angry at God, his mother, or anyone else for that matter. He was made at himself. Why had he spoken to Norman in such a manner yesterday? Norman was in pain, he knew how that felt!

Right now, Jonathan could care less if he died. Because of his low self-esteem, he wanted himself to die and go to hell. He thought that he deserved that more than anyone else in the entire world - I mean hasn't his mother been telling him that all these years? Not in words, but the way she treated him.

"God, just take me to my rightful place, hell," he said, voice angry. "I don't deserve your forgiveness of my sins. I deserve to perish in hell for all eternity." Terrible thoughts of hatred towards himself began to go through Jonathan's mind.

All he could think about now was suicide. It seemed to be the easiest and most intelligent way out of this earth. Everything his mother had ever done to him began to sink in. She knew he wasn't worthy of anything good, that's why she treated him this way! She was being a kind mother by letting him know that. All of these things were what Jonathan was thinking as he began to lose control of himself.

"Jonathan, are you in there?" Norman shouted while pounding on the front door. "Jonathan, please! I'm not mad at you anymore!"

Norman looked in the window and found a loopy Jonathan laying on the couch. Worry flooded over him, and he picked the lock. Once inside, he got Jonathan something to eat and a glass of water. "Dear God, please spare Jonathan's life. He can't die this way, please let this not be the end. Jonathan needs some kind of closure and peacefulness before he dies!"

Jonathan opened his eyes and smiled. "Norman, what are you doing here?" he choked.

"I came by to see if you were okay. You don't usually get sick, so I knew something was up," he explained.

"I'm sorry about. . ."

"Forget it. All I care about right now is getting you feeling better." He ran to the telephone and dialed 911.

The paramedics drove Jonathan away in an ambulance, not bothering to try to contact his parents. They needed to get him to the hospital quickly!

Jonathan was rushed into the ER, everyone looking very worried. "Am I gonna be okay?" he mumbled.

No one replied. They got tubes hooked up to him, then began trying to treat his bruises.

Jonathan remembered this place. He'd been here when his mother had stabbed him. She was always the cause for his emergencies. Wouldn't it feel great to go to the hospital because he was accidentally hurt without it involving Kim?

"Son, do you know why Jonathan is so black and blue?" a medic asked Norman.

Norman gulped. "I think his mother did it to him. She abuses him." Tears streamed down his face.

"I'm calling social services," the medic announced, running out the door.

**Chapter 22**

**Social Services**

"Tell me once again, did you or did you not give your son those bruises?" a state trooper asked Kim in the conference room.

"Mommy would never do such a thing. That Norman is bad news."

"Would you agree to taking a lie-detector test?" he wondered, looking very serious.

Kim crossed her arms. "You don't believe Mommy, do you?" she huffed. "Why should I? All the evidence points to you? Now, will you or won't you?"

"Yes, and Mommy'll prove you wrong too!" She looked so sure of herself.

The test came back. Kim and Brent sat side by side, holding hands. They both knew the answers, but hoped there may have been an error.

"Kim, we asked you if you ever hit your child," he began, "you said no. The lie-detector determines; that was a lie, you hit him a ton of times. We also asked you if you ever left any marks on him. You said no and that was a lie. We asked if you were the one that put him in the hospital when he was injured. Of course, you said no. Obviously, that was a lie as well. Kim, we have found you guilty of brutal physical abuse, neglect, and an attempt at sexual abuse."

Kim gasped. "Sexual abuse?" she repeated.

He nodded. "We found you tried to rape Jonathan."

"Who told you?"

"A little birdie," he said sarcastically. _Who else, you dingdong?_

"Oh. Well, what will happen to Mommy's Jonnythan?" She stared every so oddly at him, scaring the officer.

"Well, he'll be placed in Foster Care so you don't harm him anymore. Meanwhile, you'll be preparing for your trial in court. He will be present there as well."

A tear slid down Kim's face. "Please, don't send him to Foster Care!" she pleaded, voice trembling. "They won't treat him right!"

"Might I remind you that it's your fault he's going?"

Kim's hands were shaking uncontrollably. She knew she loved Jonathan, she just couldn't express it. Now her child was going to be taken from her.

Jonathan lay in his hospital bed, awaiting the news on his mother's lie-detector test. He knew she'd failed it, but did she maybe convince them she didn't do it?

The door suddenly opened and in came Brent. He smiled nervously at Jonathan, then took a seat in the chair by the bed. "Hey."

"Hi. What happened?" He looked into his father's eyes and sensed that something was wrong. Had she convinced them she was innocent? Oh dear God, no!

Brent gulped. "Jonathan, you're going to be placed in foster care," he explained. "They're taking you away from us."

Jonathan's face fell. "You mean, I'm not gonna be living with you anymore?" he asked, growing worried.

Brent nodded. "You're going off to a better and pain-free life."

Jonathan shook his head. "No, this can't be over! I didn't do God's Will yet!"

"Settle down, everything's alright. You should be glad to get out of this hellhole."

"Yeah. . ."

A few weeks later, Jonathan was sitting in the back of a social services van, on his way to his new foster family. He watched out the window, very nervous. He couldn't believe what was happening to him!

They pulled up to a giant home and stopped the van. Jonathan got out slowly and grabbed his bags. He made his way up to the door, then knocked.

A beautiful young woman answered the door. "Hello, you must be Jonathan Peachy," she greeted, her smile so warm and welcoming.

"That's me." He followed her inside, then set down his luggage.

"Well, I'll show you to your room." She took him up the grand stairs and down a long hallway. Finally, they arrived at a door that said, "Foster Child."

Jonathan found it kind of rude to label his room that way, but he couldn't mention that to her. She'd been nice enough to take him into her home.

The woman opened the door, then motioned for him to enter.

Jonathan stepped inside, displeased at the look of the room. He expected a giant bed and other bedroom luxuries. It looked so gloomy and ordinary.

"Is there a problem?" she asked suddenly.

Jonathan's face heated. "Uh no, just lookin' s'all," he said nervously. Quickly, he unpacked his stuff, the woman watching him. "Hey, I didn't catch your name."

"Angela - Angela Witherspoon," she replied, smiling sweetly.

"Okay. Hey, do you mind if I rest a bit? It's been a long day for me?" Jonathan really wanted to explore her mansion.

"Sure, go ahead. I'll be downstairs in the living room reading one of my romance books." She swayed out of the room, really shaking her butt.

Jonathan opened his closet door and peered inside. It appeared as though it hadn't been cleaned in decades! He brushed away the cobwebs, then stepped inside. Slowly, he explored his dirty walk-in closet.

He found a big box in the way back, labeled: "Top Secret." Of course, Jonathan was nosy and opened the box. Inside, he found a whole bunch of papers. Most of them looked to be bills, but one caught his eye. He lifted the paper and read:

Angela Witherspoon: Convicted of the murder of her foster child in 1997.

Sentence: Death

Age: 20

Location: New Berlin, Pennsylvania

Very dangerous and should never be allowed with children.

Jonathan's eyes widened. "Angela, a child murder?" he said aloud. A shudder went down his spine. He couldn't live here - not with a murderer!


End file.
